


Standing Room Only

by nochick_fics



Series: Standing Room Only [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Public Transportation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 19:17:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6718372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nochick_fics/pseuds/nochick_fics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dark-haired stranger makes Ed's train commute a little more interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Standing Room Only

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anotherFMAfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherFMAfan/gifts).



> Originally posted to LiveJournal on 2/24/11.

One of these days, Ed really needed to take some driving lessons.  
  
Or so he always told himself right before he boarded the “coffin on wheels,” his rather unaffectionate nickname for the subway train he rode twice a week to and from his brother’s apartment. While he was perfectly content using his legs to commute to most places, Al lived well beyond the acceptable definition of walking distance and as such, Ed was reduced to cramming himself into a train car like a damn sardine, where it almost never failed that he ended up in the vicinity of someone who was in desperate need of some schooling in the ways of good hygiene. And so, as he boarded and found himself staring at row upon row of travelers, he had no reason to believe that this time around would be any different.  
  
Yet again cursing his inability to handle a vehicle without catastrophic repercussions, Ed politely plowed his way to the back of the car, trying not to grimace noticeably as he was inadvertently poked and prodded by a wide assortment of elbows and bags and purses. When he reached his destination and noticed no available seats--no surprise there--he resigned himself to standing and planted himself near the rear door. He grabbed onto the nearest pole, which was, amazingly enough, not being used by anyone else…  
  
… until a fellow passenger came up beside him and made a liar out of him. Annoying, but again, no big surprise.  
  
The man offered him a cursory glance before checking his watch and Ed immediately noticed two things. This guy didn’t stink; truth be told, he actually smelled really good. His cologne was rich, deep, almost woodsy, but far from overpowering. Secondly, he was kind of hot. Only without the kind of. Ed didn’t normally make a habit of checking out random guys (or girls, for that matter) but it was almost impossible _not_ to acknowledge his attractiveness. His hair and eyes weren’t anything out of the realm of ordinary, but there was just something about him, something that Ed was able to hone in on in the few seconds their eyes met that gave the young man pause. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, he definitely took notice.  
  
Well, if nothing else, at least now the ride home wouldn’t suck completely.  
  
The doors closed and the train began moving, slowly at first, then picking up speed. Ed tightened his hold on the pole with his right hand and let his eyes briefly roam over his neighbor’s hand, which gripped the pole just above his. It was nice, as far as hands went. Of course, that could have been the momentary infatuation talking. With a brief shake of the head in self-admonishment, he turned away from the stranger and looked out of the window, which offered him a spectacular view of… a whole lot of nothing. Still, it was better than ogling some random guy, no matter how good he looked or smelled.  
  
The train lurched and Ed jerked suddenly as the man bumped into his back. While this alone was nothing new--it happened all the time in crowded trains--for a moment, just a moment, he could have sworn that he felt a hand brush up against his ass.  
  
And it wasn’t exactly unpleasant.  
  
In lieu of addressing the issue, Ed held his position. What was he supposed to do, turn around and yell at someone who accidentally touched his bum on a speeding train?  
  
He tried to push the thought out of his mind, but when the train lurched again, Ed’s eyes went wide and a jolt of shock and excitement surged through him. This time, it was more than a mere brush. This time, there had been definite… cupping.  
  
Ed turned his head slightly to the side, and although he couldn’t see past the blond mane of his own hair hanging over his shoulder, he could sense the man standing behind him, his intoxicating scent filling his nose and blurring his mind. The teen was vaguely aware of the fact that he should be totally and utterly creeped out by what had just happened, but damned if he wasn’t. Damned if he actually liked it. And damned if he actually _wanted more._  
  
And so, to the absolute horror of his sanity, he took a small step backwards and waited, his eyes locked on the car’s window where he found that he could see their reflections. The stranger didn’t appear to be looking at anything of particular interest, and Ed briefly wondered if he had somehow misjudged the situation until a hand ran along his left ass cheek and gripped it firmly, making no effort whatsoever to let go. Ed clenched his teeth and swallowed hard as the man’s hand proceeded to rub and knead his backside. And speaking of hard…  
  
“Turn around.”  
  
The command was crystal clear in Ed’s ear, even over the din of the car, and he had just enough presence of mind to note that the voice was just as sexy as the rest of the man. After sparing a quick look around, in which he noticed no one was paying either of them--or anyone save themselves--a damn bit of attention, Ed slowly turned and faced his new touchy feely companion, keeping his head down for fear of losing his nerve should he look directly into his face.  
  
What he _could_ see, however, was almost enough to drive him mad: a pair of feet inching closer toward him, and a discreet hand pressing palm side down against his lower stomach. Ed’s breath quickened as the curious digits traversed downward past his belt and over the straining bulge in his pants. The man curled his hand around Ed’s erection and squeezed, and Ed hissed sharply and bucked his hips in response. He watched, mesmerized, as the man began rubbing the swollen mound, and he slowly thrust his hips to heighten the friction, far past the point of being able to help himself. There he was, getting felt up on a crowded train by someone who could have been a rampant sex offender for all he knew. But there was no way in hell that he was about to stop now.  
  
In the midst of all the rubbing and grinding, Ed caught sight of the tent in the other man’s pants and moaned softly. And when he imagined dropping to his knees and taking what was on offer into his mouth, or bending over, his face plastered against the window, and getting an ass full of whatever goodness lurked beneath that zipper, all of it in front of an audience of onlookers, it was just enough to push him over the edge. Ed closed his eyes and clamped his hand over the stranger’s, his low, desperate groaning lost to the sound of the train as he came in his underwear and turned them into a sticky wet mess. His knees buckled slightly and with a long, shuddering sigh, he leaned against the pole for support while he caught his breath.  
  
Now that he was finished and did not have some strange person’s hand on his crotch, the teen was duly appalled by what he had allowed to happen. How was he _not_ supposed to feel like anything other than a common whore after what he just did? (Never mind the fact that feeling like a common whore was the reason he was so turned on in the first place.)  
  
Just as Ed was about to open his mouth to say something-- _anything_ \--to make the situation less awkward, the train started slowing down, and the passengers preparing to depart began shuffling about as a pleasant automated voice announced their arrival.  
  
“Well, this is my stop.”  
  
The voice, while not commanding this time, was still downright sexy. Mustering all of his courage, Ed finally raised his head, his cheeks flushed from embarrassment and afterglow, and he regarded the amused countenance of the gorgeous, nice-smelling man who may or may not have been a wanted felon and who apparently had no qualms about fondling complete strangers on public transportation. And even if he _was_ all of the above, Ed found that right about now, he really didn’t care.  
  
The man reached into his pocket, pulled out a card, and handed it to Ed. “If you’re ever on the train again…” he said with a shrug and a smirk before turning on his heels and disappearing in a sea of exiting bodies.  
  
Ed looked out of the window and tried to spot him, but he was long gone. The train started up again, thankfully a little less crowded this time, but the teen opted to remain standing in spite of available seating. Instead, he looked down at the card and committed the stranger’s name to memory, then stuck it in his pocket for safekeeping.  
  
“Roy Mustang,” he whispered. As if he was ever going to forget.  
  
Maybe those driving lessons could wait a little while longer.


End file.
